Waking Up
by mcat
Summary: Slashy followup to mcatB's Tired of it All


Waking Up

Directly follows Mady Bay's "Tired of it All" with references to her story "Beached" as well.

Warning – there be slash here, but only of the PG-13 variety.

When Chris returned to the living room, mugs of hot tea in hand, he stopped short. Danny had fallen asleep. He put the mugs down onto the coffee table and took a seat on the couch and watched his partner.

He laughed at himself – hadn't he done enough of this lately? Watching Danny sleep? Granted, the first day or two at the hospital couldn't really count as 'sleep' for Danny. Drug-induced coma was what it was, but then the next two days, when Danny was in and out of it, mostly out of it, it seemed as if sleeping had been all he'd done, as if he'd been catching up.

Chris found himself frowning then. Thinking about Danny's recent behavior – beyond his and Linda's sex life or lack thereof – he really didn't think Danny had been getting any real sleep lately. Hell, if his coffee consumption alone was any sign, then surely he had trouble staying awake, which meant that he'd probably had trouble sleeping. But why?

He and Danny were good enough friends, beyond just coworkers, that if something had been troubling him, Danny would have told him, right? He'd told him enough about his problem-filled love life. Not that Chris wanted to hear about it. He'd begun to tune him out. Chris felt a pang of guilt then. He knew that it was more than his dislike of Linda that had bothered him. In fact, Chris knew, it wasn't even that. He didn't really dislike Linda; he'd been jealous of her.

It had seemed as if he'd been in love with Danny since they first met. Chris, ever a romantic, liked to believe it was love at first sight. At least on his part. Looking over at his sleeping partner, he had to ask, how could anyone not love him? Sure, he could be obnoxious at times. Macho. Stubborn. Dense. Womanizing... Chris closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. That last one was the clincher – the others he could change – not much he could do about that one. But it didn't stop him from loving Danny.

After Danny'd been shot, he'd been scared out of his wits, thinking that he'd lost his partner and best friend. Just thinking of their frantic swim from the boat, only to have found Danny not breathing when they reached the beach made Chris shudder. And to almost lose him again, just four days ago...

Chris stood and ran for the bathroom, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. After a few minutes of nearly hyperventilating, and nothing to show for his nausea, Chris calmed down. He splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. "Well, at least you're in better shape than your partner," he told himself, and again thought of Danny's problems, instead of his own.

He returned to the living room and took another look at his sleeping partner. Saw the lines of discomfort on Danny's face just before he turned his head away. Chris thought he heard a quiet whimper, too. Brows furrowed, thoughts troubled, Chris suddenly recalled the Emergency Room doctor's theory about Danny overdosing on Darvocet. Was Danny still taking the pain med? After all this time?

He went back to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. He searched behind the shaving gear and toothpaste but saw nothing there. He went to the kitchen then, and opened the cabinets there. In the small one next to the fridge, he found some Tylenol, Tums, Band-Aids and ... Darvocet. He picked up the bottle and checked the date. It was only a week since Danny had gotten it filled. What the hell?

After Danny had gotten out of the hospital, after the shooting, he'd sworn to Chris that he was okay. All he talked about was how well his physical therapy had been going. The department doctor had okayed him to be back at work...

He and his best friend needed to talk.

When Danny woke up, he was surprised, if not disoriented, to find himself in his living room. Looking around as he pulled his grandmother's afghan down off his chest, he saw Chris sitting on the couch, reading a book.

"How long was I out?" he asked covering a yawn.

"A couple hours," Chris replied easily, putting down the borrowed book.

"I'm sorry," Danny apologized, feeling as if he'd been a poor host – falling asleep on his friend.

But Chris interrupted, holding up a hand, "Forget about it. You obviously needed it."

Danny rose slowly from the recliner, trying to hide the pain and stiffness from his partner.

"You need a Darvocet?" Chris asked, now holding up the prescription bottle. He tried not to sound too accusing.

"No. No, I'm good," Danny replied, walking to Chris and taking the bottle. "You always go through your friends' medicine cabinets when they're sleeping?" he asked, continuing on to the kitchen and putting the prescription away.

"Only when I'm worried about them," Chris countered, following him into the kitchen and leaning against the doorway. "Your shoulder is still hurting you?"

"Not really," Danny replied with a shrug.

"So why the pain meds? Regular Tylenol isn't enough?"

"I don't know," Danny said, wiping down the clean countertop in front of him. "Works better." After a moment Danny looked at his watch and added, "Hey, you don't need to baby-sit me. It's getting late. I'm sure you've got better things to do."

Chris was neither blind nor deaf. He saw right through Danny's plan to change the subject and get rid of him. "They work better?" he asked. "But I thought you said you weren't in pain? What are you using them for?"

"Look, I'm fine, Chris," Danny argued, leaving the kitchen and heading back to the living room, and the front door. "Really. You don't have to stay here." He opened the door.

Chris closed the door. "What are you using them for?" he repeated, his voice and posture telling Danny that he was not leaving without an answer. He stared at Danny, pressing for an answer.

Danny's resolve crumbled under Chris's gaze and his body slumped in defeat. His head bowed, he whispered, "They let me sleep."

"What?"

Danny met Chris's gaze again and repeated, "They let me sleep." Seeing Chris's continued confusion, Danny sat down on the couch and motioned Chris to do the same.

"They make over-the-counter stuff for that, you know," Chris said.

"I've had dreams," Danny replied, nervously rubbing the thumb of one hand over the back of his other. "Nightmares."

"I thought this stuff would give you the nightmares, not take them away," Chris replied, shaking his head.

Danny shrugged. "Another oddity to add to my list of character traits," he said glibly.

"I didn't think you could get refills for this stuff – not this long after, anyway..." Chris remarked, somewhat suspiciously. When Danny didn't immediately reply, Chris moved on the couch, turning to face his partner more squarely, a little closer. "Danny?"

Danny shoved his head back toward the top of the couch and ran his hands over his face and head. "My life is so fucked up, Chris," he murmured, slowly shaking his head back and forth.

Chris was more confused than before. And his heart felt as if it would break upon hearing the pain in Danny's voice. "Danny?" He put his hand on Danny's forearm, bringing down so that he could see Danny's face. "Danny, what's going on, man? Talk to me," he begged.

Danny let out a pity-filled laugh as he shook his head. "You don't want to know, Chris. Trust me."

"Danny..." Chris shook his head. He didn't know what to say to him. He again had pangs of guilt – for not paying attention to his partner; his best friend; for missing the signs. "I'm sorry if I haven't been there for you – if there was something I did, or didn't do..."

"No, Chris," Danny reassured him. "You're good. You didn't do anything. Really." He rose from the couch and paced the room.

"Then tell me."

Danny had agonized about this moment for months now – needing to tell Chris, wanting to tell Chris, yet fearing telling Chris. Fearing the loss of friendship; their partnership. He stopped his pacing and faced his partner. Now or never. He swallowed nervously. "I..." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm... dammit!" He laid a frustrated fist against his forehead.

Chris rose from his seat on the couch and approached Danny. He heard the fear and pain in his friend's voice, couldn't help but want to soothe it. He put a gentle hand to Danny's, bringing them both down, but not letting go. "Whatever you tell me, it's not leaving this room. Whatever you tell me, it's not gonna change us. We're still gonna be partners. I promise, we're still gonna be friends."

Danny shook his head, mutely telling Chris that he was wrong, that he couldn't make that promise. He forced his hand from Chris's grip, but as he started to turn away from Chris, his friend stopped him with four words; words he knew he couldn't argue with: "Do you trust me?"

"I kept having these nightmares – about being shot. About drowning," he began. He turned to face Chris again. "I remember drowning. I remember being tossed around; not knowing which way was up, swallowing the water... I don't know how many times I've woken up clawing at the sheets, gasping for air."

"I know," Chris responded, gently pushing Danny down to sit on the couch again, before joining him. "You had a few of them in the hospital" he said and remembered those times with awful detail.

"That's when I stopped taking the meds," Danny said. "The doc said that sometimes certain medicines can cause nightmares. I couldn't handle those dreams anymore."

"But you're taking them again?"

Danny waited a moment to gather his resolve before continuing, "I started to have different dreams then." When Chris didn't interrupt or question him, Danny whispered, "Dreams about you."

Chris was taken aback. "Me?" he asked.

"About you saving me, keeping me afloat, keeping me warm – "

"Yeah, that's what partners do – " Chris interrupted.

"– kissing me," Danny continued, meeting Chris's gaze, waiting for the disgust to show.

"Well, there was that mouth-to-mouth I had to give you," Chris tried to joke. But Danny's serious expression didn't change.

"And more than kissing," Danny went on.

The two men were silent with their thoughts for a few moments. Danny believing Chris must think the worst of him. Chris wondering if this wasn't his opportunity to express his own feelings, yet knowing he couldn't – Danny obviously didn't like the dreams he'd had.

"Started wondering about myself, you know?" Danny spoke up, breaking the silence. "When Linda came along, hell, I don't know..."

"Felt like you had to reassert your heterosexuality?" Chris suggested.

"I guess," Danny replied with a shrug and then added. "Not that it worked. Made it worse, I think. I guess that's why Linda and I had so many problems. I felt like I was living in two relationships – one awake with her and another asleep with you."

"Did you tell her?"

"God, no!"

Chris was relieved to hear that – he would have felt hurt if Danny had confided in Linda and not him.

"But I started taking the meds again. Told the doc I re-injured my shoulder at the beach one day, that I needed it," Danny said.

"Did it work?"

"Yeah."

"So you traded one nightmare for another?"

Danny caught the sadness in Chris's voice. "You're not put off by this at all? Weirded out by the fact that I've been having wet dreams about you?"

And suddenly Chris felt it was time to face his own fears. "When I have them about you, they aren't nightmares," he whispered.

"Whoa," was all Danny could say. He was too dumbfounded by this revelation to think of anything else.

"Yeah, that about sums it up," Chris added, rising from the couch, going to the window and looking out.

Danny sat on the couch a few moments more, wondering about his own faults as a friend and partner, recalling Chris's earlier words of apology, however unnecessary they were.

He rose from the couch and walked to his partner. Putting a tentative hand on Chris's shoulder, he gently turned him around, leaned in and kissed him.

Chris was surprised, but did not hesitate to return the kiss, slowly bringing his hands up to touch Danny, bring him closer and hold him tighter.

When their first kiss ended, both men opened their eyes and smiled gently at one another.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Chris whispered.

Danny shook his head. "Like a good dream," he said, then added, "Yet, I feel like I'm finally awake."


End file.
